Dad und die Kinder

My father, John McCarthy, who was an Army captain at the time, entered Berlin with the occupation forces in 1945. He had two sons of his own back in the USA -- my brother, Jeff, born in 1941, and me, born in 1944. He enjoyed being with children and the kinder of Germany were no exception. The other day going through some old photos -- and there are literally thousands I have not yet looked at -- I came across this snapshot, probably taken by his old friend, the late Lee Hanel. He and Dad, both Army officers who served together, were avid photographers. 

I would guess that Dad was sharing some candy or sweets with the children. In the background you can see a number of German women looking on. Sadly, some of them probably lost their husbands in the war -- men who were drafted into the Wehrmacht, forced to fight Hitler's losing war. Many never returned. One can only imagine what these young mothers were thinking as they watched this American treating their children with kindness. I recall Dad once mentioning the "war children" of Germany, and telling me, "The children had nothing to do with the war, with Hitler, with the carnage, and the brutality. That was done by adults. I always tried to be friendly and kind to them." Sometimes a simple black and white photo is worth far more than a thousand words.

Pray for peace.

Reflection: Divine Mercy Novena - Day 8

"Mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to My mercy...Oh, how much I am hurt by a soul's distrust! Such a soul professes that I am Holy and Just, but does not believe that I am Mercy and does not trust in My Goodness. Even the devils glorify MY Justice but do not believe in My Goodness. My heart rejoices in this title of Mercy." - St. Faustine's Diary (350)

I’m always surprised by the amount of despair I encounter…and it seems to come from such unlikely places. 

Years ago, I worked with a bright, young man. Ambitious and competent, he’s gone on to have a distinguished business career. I remember when his father died. On the day before the funeral, I stopped by his office to express my condolences. I'll never forget his response.

"No big deal,” he said. “After all, life is just a crapshoot. That's why we've got to have as much fun as possible. Make money and have fun. Because when it's over…it's over!"

You can’t miss the despair in these words. And yet, were you to meet him, you'd think he was full of enthusiasm and joy at just being alive. But that joy and enthusiasm struggles against a dark backdrop of death and oblivion.

He's not alone. Others, including many Christians, worry about their physical health, and ignore their spiritual health. They worry about how they will spend their retirement, but not how they will spend eternity. They worry about helping their children get into good schools, but not helping them get into heaven. They focus on work, money, vacations, TV shows, food, possessions -- every created thing under the sun -- but rarely think of the Creator.

For so many the created world, the material world of the here and now, becomes an end in itself. But they're not blind. They see the world perishing, themselves aging, time unravelling. And unable to look beyond the world, they despair.

Well...so far, I suppose this hasn’t been a very cheerful reflection. But that’s about to change. For God has provided a cure and an antidote to despair. He gave us His Son. He gave us the personification of Divine Mercy.

The very fact of the Incarnation should be enough to cure anyone of despair. If we believe in Jesus’ divinity, how can we not accept the reality of God’s Mercy? Just meditate on the Cross. That’s our Creator hanging there. We see how God’s Mercy knows no bounds, so far beyond our understanding of mercy. The Father didn’t allow His Son to be sacrificed in such a horrible way for nothing.

But in addition to being the ultimate redemptive act, the Cross is also a plea from God to man. In giving us the gift of the Cross, God is saying: 

“Do you see how much I love you? Do you see the extent of My Divine Mercy? Then why don’t you trust in Me? You rejected My Son, you tortured Him, and you killed Him…and I knew that you would do this. And yet I still went ahead with my redemptive plan.”

His love for us, His gratuitous love, is so complete, we not only don’t deserve it, but also can’t even comprehend it. Grasping this do we then jump to the presumption that God’s Mercy will save everyone? No, because that’s not our decision. It’s God’s.

We must neither despair nor presume. God just wants us to trust. We cannot save ourselves, but by accepting and cooperating with God’s Grace, we can allow God to save us. Isn’t that a consoling thought?

Look at the world, at its hatreds, its violence, its sinfulness, its despair. How did Jesus put it in today’s reading from St. Faustina’s Diary?

“Mankind will not have peace until it turns in trust to My Mercy.”

Divine Mercy is the cure. Trust is our only response.

Homily: Thursday, 21st Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: 1 Cor 1:1-9 • Ps 145 • Mt 24:42-51

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Today we celebrate the memorials of two saints. The first is St. Louis -- or Louis IX, King of France -- one of the many great saints of the 13th century. He was also one of the few truly saintly kings, a man who cared much for his people's material and spiritual welfare. He also took an active part in the Crusades to reclaim Jerusalem and Our Lord's Tomb, a crusade that took his life.

The other saint we remember today is St. Joseph Calasanz, a saint of the 16th and 17th century who devoted his life to the education of the poor. 

We are truly blessed to to celebrate these saints today...now my homily.

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“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ” [1 Cor 1:3].

Don’t you just love that greeting? Right there in the beginning of our reading from St. Paul. He extended it to the community of Christians, gathered together in that southern Greek city of Corinth. And what a wonderful greeting it was…really a blessing. Until now, I’ve never extended that greeting to anyone, but I think I might start using it, especially with those in spiritual need, which I guess includes all of us.

Yes…grace and peace, living signs of God’s love for us – that God wants to touch us with His grace so we can experience His peace. It’s really the only antidote, the only cure, to the anxieties and fears that plague us in this life.

How often are we truly at peace? We probably spend too much of our time regretting the things of the past or worrying about the unknowns of the future. Paul, like Jesus, is trying to get us to look at and act in the present.

“Stay awake!” Jesus commands us…certainly not yesterday, and not even tomorrow, but now! He always seems to draw our attention to the present. The past? It’s gone. We can’t change it. Oh, we can try to rewrite it, but that doesn’t change the reality. God is the only perfect historian, the only one who really knows all that has happened and why.

When Jesus addressed the past, it was usually in the sense of fulfillment, of something that had to happen to bring forth the present. As He read from the prophet Isaiah, what did He tell the people in the synagogue at Nazareth?

“Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing” [Lk 4:21].

Yes, it is the present, the fulfillment of the past, to which Jesus turns our attention.

He also warned us about our obsession with the future; for the future, too, is out of our hands. God is not only the perfect historian, but He’s also the only true futurist. We Christians often forget this. Like the disciples Jesus addressed, we make lots of plans, thinking we know what’s going to happen. How did Our Lord put it?

“You do not know on which day your Lord will come” [Mt 24:42].

He then tells them to “be prepared.” If you think about it, being prepared means doing what is necessary in the present. Being prepared isn’t planning; it’s doing.

Back in my consulting days, I often had to remind company executives that developing plans was certainly a necessary aspect of their work. But to bear fruit, their plans for the future must be translated into work carried out in an ongoing, continuous present. And it was work carried out not by them, but by their employees. If they ignore their employees, or belittle their work, they might as well ignore their customers too. The quality of the work accomplished in the present always determines the level of future success.

But as we prepare, Jesus tells us how to view the short-term future:

“Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself” [Mt 6:34].

Yes, it’s the present, the next step we take, that’s important. As hope-filled Christians, then, we must think of the present as a kind of emergency. In an emergency we don’t ponder the past or think about the future; we act!

But our Christian faith isn’t a business. We don’t need a business plan to achieve salvation. Salvation’s a gift. All we need is faith lived well, and the Presence of God in the Church and its sacramental life. We don’t need a marketing plan to evangelize. We need only trust in the Holy Spirit Who, as Our Lord promised, “will teach you at that moment what you should say” [Lk 12:12]. We need not advertise. We need only bear witness and manifest the fruit of God’s unconditional love as He moves in our lives, changing us, forming us, making us His own.

“Stay awake!” Jesus commands us.

But when you go to sleep, as you must, thank God for the present, the present of the next day that will greet you when you awaken.

Homily: Eucharistic Adoration

Readings: Jas 3:13-18; Psalm 122; John 14:23-29

Listening to St. James is always a bit of an awakening. He certainly didn’t pull any punches. His Letter is filled with wonderful truths about living our faith; but when reading this passage, I was especially struck by his words, “…in the humility that comes from wisdom” [Jas 3:13].

I'm pretty sure He's telling us that wisdom means having a true sense of the reality of things. And perhaps the greatest of all realities is the vast difference between us and the God who created us. Recognizing this difference can do nothing but fill us with humility. Yes, indeed, humility comes from wisdom, the acceptance of God’s greatness and our seeming insignificance.

And yet, our God created us in love…

He wants us to spend an eternity with Him, out of love…

He humbled Himself to become one of us, out of love…

He blesses us with His greatest gift, the gift of Himself in the Eucharist…again, out of love.

And as St. James reminds us, the fruit of it all is God’s peace, a peace that frees us from anxiety and fear.

Of course, we hear much the same from Jesus.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” [Jn 14:17], He told the Apostles – a message for all of us.

Are you afraid? If so, you're in good company. The apostles were certainly afraid and confused.

Jesus spoke to them about His death, His execution at the hands of His enemies. In our passage from John, we can almost sense their confusion. 

If He’s the Son of God, one with the Father, how can this happen? How would they cope without Him? Would they also be arrested and executed? Yes, they were afraid, and fear undermined their faith. They began to doubt. 

These fears remained, throughout Jesus' Passion and Death, and even after His Resurrection. Only with the arrival of the promised Holy Spirit on Pentecost did their fears evaporate, replaced by God's peace.

“Peace is my farewell to you; my peace is my gift to you” [Jn 14:27].

And, yes, God’s peace is so very different from the peace the world offers.

For God doesn’t promise the absence of war or conflict. His peace doesn’t free us from suffering or persecution, from pain or illness. It’s not the peace of a tranquil life, nor is it peace of mind.

This is the peace the world promises, always unfulfilling, superficial, misleading, ephemeral, and unjust.

It’s not the peace Jesus gives us. How did He put it?

“Not as the world gives do I give it to you” [Jn 14:27].

Because the peace that Jesus promises completely transcends anything the world can offer us.

Victor Frankl, an Austrian psychotherapist who died in 1997, spent much of World War II as a prisoner in Auschwitz and other death camps.

Frankl, a Jew, wrote a book of his experiences called, “Man's Search for Meaning.”

In it he describes how, in the midst of brutality and degradation, he encountered so much remarkable faith and unselfish love.

Amazed by those who had achieved victory over the sinfulness that surrounded them, Frankl had a revelation. He wrote:

“Then I grasped…The salvation of man is through love and in love.

For the first time in my life, I was able to understand the meaning of the words, ‘The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.’”

Yes, in the midst of the horror that was Auschwitz, Victor Frankl had encountered God’s peace. 

This is the peace proclaimed by Christ, a peace that is achieved by victory over sin, something that comes only through the power of God.

The basis of peace, the peace of soul Jesus promises, is God and God alone.

And the very soul of peace is love, which comes only from the love of God and expresses itself through us in our love for others.

Only by turning to God can we rid our lives of all that is driven by selfishness and greed, by hatred and bitterness. For whatever takes away God’s peace from your soul cannot come from God.

Only by turning to God can we replace the evil in our lives with love for God and neighbor, with forgiveness, with the will to help others, and the desire to share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

The secret of peace? Trust, trust in the will of God.

Too often we trust only in ourselves. We think we can achieve peace in our lives by our own efforts, but in doing so we become only like the Pharisees.

How different are the saints…who sought only to love and serve God.

For the saints knew that one doesn’t become a saint. It is God who makes saints…out of sinners who trust in Him and accept His will for them.

No saint ever had a plan to become a saint. Had this been the case, he would have become only a perfectionist, not a saint.

Brothers and sisters, we can possess the peace of Christ, a fruit of the Holy Spirit, but only if God’s Spirit lives within us.

As Jesus promises us:

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" [Jn 14:23].

And that’s exactly what our loving God does when we receive Him worthily in the Eucharist.

When God dwells within you, there’s no room for anything else, no room for anything but God's peace – and certainly no room for fear.

Fear never comes from God. To escape it simply turn to our Lord in total trust.

And remember, wherever Jesus is, so too is the Holy Spirit – with us to guide us, strengthen us, encourage us, just as He guides, strengthens, and encourages the Church.

Anyway, what is there to fear when you have been promised eternal life?

As St. Paul tells us again and again, Christ – and only Christ – is our peace [Eph 2:14].

 

Homily: Solemnity of Mary, Holy Mother of God (1 Jan 2020)

I have embedded a video of this homily below. The text of the homily follows the video.

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Readings: Nm 6:22-27; Ps 67; Gal 4:4-7; Lk 2:16-21

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Theotokos Icon

1,600 years ago, at the Council of Ephesus, the Church gave Mary a title: Theotokos, a Greek word meaning “God-bearer.” In bestowing this title on Mary, the Church confirmed that, as the Mother of Jesus Christ, true God and true man, she is truly the Mother of God.

This is the feast we celebrate today: the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Her title has its Scriptural roots in the story we all know – the story Luke tells in those early chapters of his Gospel.  We’re all familiar with it.

The Annunciation by the archangel Gabriel in Nazareth, and how the young Mary agreed to bear the Son of God, the Savior of the World. Yes, Luke describes Mary’s role vividly and leaves us with words we can never forget: 

“Let it be done to me according to your word” [Lk 1:38].

Mary's Magnificat

And then Mary, filled with the Spirit and carrying the Son of God in her womb, leaves immediately to make the long trek to Judea to visit Elizabeth. By visiting Elizabeth Mary really visits all of us. She carries Jesus to young and old, to the unborn John and to his aging parents. She carries the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. And she proclaims this wonderful news in her song of praise and thanksgiving, the Magnificat.

“He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation…He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty” [Lk 1:50,52-53].

Yes, Mary, the first Christian evangelist, spreads the Good News, telling the world of God’s mercy and justice. And thanks to Luke and the Holy Spirit we receive this Word of God. 

Because it’s the living Word of God, you and I are truly present there in the home of Zechariah and Elizabeth listening to Mary as she praises God and thanks Him not just for herself, but for all of us. We are there, just as we are present months later in the rolling hills outside of Bethlehem. When the angelic host appear to the shepherds, we are there among them to hear the Good News proclaimed from heaven itself. Indeed, this is exactly what the angel reveals. Listen to his words, the words you’ve heard so many times:

“Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you Good News of a great joy which will come to all people” [Lk 2:10].

This isn’t a message just for a few shepherds. No, it’s the Good News of Jesus Christ, a message for all people.

As Mary proclaimed, all of this happened according to God’s promise “to Abraham and to his descendants forever” [Lk 1:55]. We, brothers and sisters, are these descendants of Abraham, our father in faith; for God promised him that he would be the father of a multitude of nations. It’s a universal promise, a catholic promise. And because we are there with Mary, the shepherds and Abraham, this revelation places a demand on us. 

Just as the shepherds went on to glorify and praise God for all they had heard and seen, we too are called to do the same. And it’s really not something we should put off. For throughout these first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel, we detect a sense of urgency. When Gabriel reveals that Elizabeth will also bear a son, Luke tells us that Mary set off in haste. Our Blessed Mother didn’t delay in carrying out this dual mission of hers. For not only was she the God-bearer, the carrier of the Good News deep within her, but she also carried God’s love to someone in need. 

Both acts were of such importance that neither could be delayed. Yes, Mary set off in haste; but she wasn’t the only one. How did Luke describe the shepherds’ response in the passage we just heard?

“The shepherds went in haste to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger” [Lk 2:16].

Moved by what they had seen and what they had heard from the angels, they could do no less. How blessed they must have thought themselves, for they would be among the first to set eyes on the Messiah so long awaited by God’s people. Is it any wonder that they left...

"glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them” [Lk 2:20].

Shepherds Receive the Good News

We too have received the Good News, brothers and sisters. We are all called to carry it to others, not in word alone, but in deed as well. Yes, Mary is the God-bearer who brought Our Lord into the world and presented Him as the Father’s gift to all of humanity. The shepherds of Bethlehem received that gift with joy and willingly and openly carried it to others. 

What a remarkable gift it is! It’s a gift of love, arising from God’s hope that we will turn from our sinfulness and accept Him into our hearts.

It’s a gift of divine forgiveness, of His outrageous mercy, a gift that will trump the power of sin and overcome all hatred, violence, revenge, addiction…all the evils of the world.

It’s a gift of Jesus Christ Himself, a gift we receive in a most special way.

When we receive the Eucharist today, when we receive the Real Presence, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, you and I also become God-bearers, carriers of this gift. But what will we do with it? Will it change us, as it changed Mary, as it changed the shepherds?

Just as Mary carried Jesus to the world, we are called to carry Him to all the others in our lives. As the shepherds proclaimed the Good News of salvation, we are called to proclaim this message of hope to a world too often sunk in despair.

As we celebrate the beginning of a new year, let’s learn from both Mary and the shepherds, and follow their example. Worshipping here together on this feast of Mary, the Mother of God, let’s join her in a prayer for peace: peace in the world; peace in our country; peace in our cities and communities.

Pray for peace in our homes; but most importantly, pray for peace in our hearts.

Pray that the darkness of sin will be overcome in this world and that the light of love — the way of Mary’s Son — will take hold in our hearts and the hearts of all.

And so, let us today bless our world and each other with the words of blessing God gave to Moses and Aaron:

“The Lord bless you and keep you! 

The Lord let his face shine upon
you, and be gracious to you! 

The Lord look upon you with kindness and give you peace!” [Nm 6:24-26]

Homily: Saturday, 21st Week in Ordianry Time, Year C

Today we had no morning Mass. Because of the impending Hurricane Dorian, the presiding priest, who lives near Orlando, was unable to buy gas for his car. All the local gas stations were out of fuel. 
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As the assigned deacon I conducted a Liturgy of the Word with Holy Communion. I have embedded a video, followed by the text of the homily.

Readings: 1 Thes 4:9-11; • Ps 98 • Mt 25:14-30

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I usually preach on the Gospel, but today the Spirit drew me to the words of St. Paul to the Thessalonians, words we might just gloss over if we don't take the time to think about them. They're right at the end of our first reading when Paul instructs us:

"...aspire to live a tranquil life, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your own hands, as we instructed you" [1 Thes 4:11].

I've probably read these words dozens of times, but rarely thought much about them. Isn't it interesting how that often happens with Sacred Scripture? So often the words just slide by, almost unnoticed, but then occasionally something happens. It's as if the Holy Spirit knows just when we'll be receptive to His Word and opens our minds and hearts to listen and accept.

What was Paul's first suggestion?

"...aspire to live a tranquil life..." or as some translations have it, "to live quietly."

Now, I can't speak for any of you, only for myself, but believe me, even in my so-called retirement, my life is far from tranquil. It just seems to "fill up" with all kinds of tasks, and commitments, and requests, and promises, and demands...all those things to which I rarely say, "No." As another deacon once said to me, "Pray? I don't have time to pray. I'm too busy with all these ministries."

Of course, we love the praise, don't we? 

"Oh, he's so busy, but still always willing to help. You can always count on him, so good."

Oh, yes, we love the praise, even when it comes from ourselves. And that should tell us something about our motives. 

We're all so busy, aren't we? Busy with work, with play, with games and hobbies, with good things, with bad things, and with silly things. And yet, as Paul reminds us, we need tranquility; we need peace in our lives. How often did Jesus bless His disciples by saying, "Peace be with you?"

Stopping to Pray the Angelus...Peace

Without it, all that busyness becomes meaningless.

Without it we have no prayer life; no time to think about and deepen our relationship with God; no time to understand exactly what God wants of us.

Without it we have no time for rejoicing, no time for thanksgiving, no time for learning to love God and each other.

Maybe at some point we need someone to tell us: "Stop. Don't just do something, stand there!" 

Or more profoundly, in the words of the psalmist: "Be still, and know that I am God" [Ps 46:10].

St. Paul continues and tells us "to mind your own affairs."

We are busybodies, aren't we? -- wanting to know everything about everyone -- lies, gossip, even the truth -- we don't care; we just want to know it all. And when we hear about the problems and challenges faced by others, it makes us feel so much better about our own less than perfect lives.

"You won't believe what I just heard..."

I've always loved that wonderful line from Jane Austen's  Pride and Prejudice, when Mr. Bennet says to his daughter, Lizzie:

"For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?"

Yes, indeed, we allow ourselves to be guided by our curiosity instead of our faith, instead of loving our neighbor, praying for him, helping her deal with the adversity and challenges of life. 

I suppose my eighth-grade teacher, Sister Francis Jane, was right when I tried to overhear what she was saying as she reprimanded another student: "Dana McCarthy, mind your own business."

Finally, Paul tells us "to work with your own hands."

I find it interesting that, when describing God's work, Sacred Scripture often depicts God working as a manual laborer would work. Listen again to the voice of the psalmist: 

"When I see your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and stars that you set in place" [Ps 8:4].

Yes, it's a metaphor, but one we encounter throughout all of Scripture, even in today's responsorial psalm:

"Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done wondrous deeds; His right hand has won victory for him, his holy arm" [Ps 98:1].

As for St. Paul, although he was a scholar, a student of the renowned Gamaliel, Luke also described him as a "tentmaker" [Acts 18:3], a trade Paul presumably learned to earn a living. In fact, the apostles, with the exception of Mathew, the tax-collector, were pretty much all blue-collar guys. And let's not forget that Jesus worked many years as a carpenter before starting His public ministry. 

Jesus of Nazareth, Carpenter and Son of God

Is Paul suggesting, then, that all white-collar Christians should quit their jobs and learn a trade? No, I don't think so. I think he's simply telling us that to work with one's hands is a very human and very honest activity, something that echoes our creation in God's image and likeness. 

"Then the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul" [Gn 2:7].

Creation of Man

Working with one's hands is often creative, usually productive, and offers opportunities to think about the important things, the permanent things.

In my former consulting business I found that the most successful senior executives had some hands-on, creative outlet such as cabinet making, painting, or some other similar activity. There seems to be a human need to accomplish things using the skills of our hands -- part reward, part accomplishment, part peace. 

And so today Paul gives us some sound advice, advice we should follow on our journey to holiness. Then, like the good servant, we too might hear those words:

"Well done, my good and faithful servant...Come share your master's joy" [Mt 25:23].

Homily: 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C (Video & Text)

The full text of this homily follows the below video.

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Readings: Jer 38:4-6,8-10; Ps 40; Heb 12:1-4, 8-19; Lk 12:49-53

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In May of 1940, Winston Churchill, the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, delivered his first speech to the House of Commons. It was an electrifying speech, one that united the nation behind his leadership as it waged war against Nazi Germany, a determined and stronger foe. And in that speech he uttered perhaps his most famous words:

"I would say to the House as I said to those who have joined this government: 'I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat.' We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering."

Jeremiah

These were not comforting words, not words a government leader wants to say to the people. But they were necessary words, harsh but motivating words. They were words of truth, words that, despite the metaphors, still told it like it is. Churchill was perhaps the perfect wartime leader, and maybe this is why he was rejected by his nation once the war had ended. We see something similar in today's first reading: Jeremiah tells the hard truth, but many don't want to hear it. And so they try to destroy God's prophet.

In today's Gospel passage, Luke gives us Jesus' words. They, too, seem harsh, so harsh that some, who don't understand what Jesus is telling us, come away puzzled. How can Jesus, the Prince of Peace, tell us that He has come "not to establish peace on the earth...but rather division"? [Lk 12:51]

But that's not all. He also says that He will be the cause of this division, and that He has "come to bring fire to the earth." And then He adds those remarkable words: "And how I wish it were already blazing" [Lk 12:49].

Yes, these are indeed harsh words, the kind of words many Christians try to ignore, thinking that maybe Jesus was just having a bad day. He really didn't mean it. Did He? Like Churchill, who was apparently acceptable to many of his countrymen so long as he was waging war, to many Christians Jesus is acceptable only when He speaks of peace and love and forgiveness. But, in truth, Jesus meant everything He said. 

The trouble is, too often we see and hear only the Jesus we want to see and hear, the Jesus we'd like Him to be, and ignore the real Jesus, the God who speaks to us. Remember last Sunday's Gospel? Remember how Jesus reminded us of the demands of discipleship? 

"Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more" [Lk 12:48}.

Those, too, were not easy words for you and for me, or for all Christians who have been entrusted with so much. Jesus' words in today's Gospel passage are really quite similar. But let's look at them more closely, in the context of His total teaching, and see what Jesus is really telling us. The first thing He says: 

"I have come to bring fire to the earth" [Lk 12:49].

Is He speaking of the fire of war and destruction? No, not at all. But He is speaking of a fire that cleanses and purifies, the fire of God's Light, the fire of God's Truth, the fire of God's Presence.

It's the fire Moses encountered when he approached the burning bush on Mount Horeb [Ex 3:1-6]. The fire that didn't consume called Moses to discipleship and holiness. It is the fire that forms and reforms, a fire that continues its work in the Church today.

It's the pillar of fire that led God's People out of slavery and through the desert on their journey to freedom, to the Land promised by the Father [Ex 13:21-22].

It's the fire of the burning ember that touched Isaiah's lips and removed his wickedness and purged his sin [Is 6:6-7].

In every instance it's the unquenchable fire of the Holy Spirit, the same Holy Spirit who appeared as tongues of fire settling on the first disciples as they prayed together in the upper room [Acts 2:3].

Yes, Jesus calls for fire, but it's a fire of purification. It's a fire of a new creation, the fire that brings the Church into being and continues to cleanse and purify her, always calling her back to her holy beginnings.

Oh, it can be painful as it calls us to repentance and conversion, demanding that we reject the world's false promises. But it's also a fire of liberation, a fire that frees us from our slavery to sin and leads us to the freedom of God's Kingdom. 

And then Jesus tells us: 

"There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished"  [Lk 12:50].

Once again, many are confused when they hear these words. Hadn't Jesus already undergone a Baptism when John baptized Him in the Jordan? [Mt 3:16-17] Yes, but for Jesus that Baptism by John was a sign, a manifestation of the Trinity - Jesus experiencing the descending dove of the Holy Spirit and the confirming words of the Father. Is He talking now of a second Baptism, another trip to the Jordan? No, not at all. 

In the early Church, and in many churches today, Baptism involves a total immersion in its saving waters. How does the Church's funeral rite begin today?

"In Baptism, she died with Christ and rose with Him to new life. May she now share with Him eternal glory." [See Rom 6:3-5]

Immersed, then, in the waters of Baptism, we die with Christ and become a sign of Christ's suffering and death. Rising from the waters we are a sign of His Resurrection, looking to our own resurrection on the last day.

Does Jesus look forward to this "Baptism" on the Cross? His words answer the question.

"...how great is my anguish until it is accomplished" [Lk 12:50].

Finally, Jesus tells us:

"Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division [Lk 12:51].

For many these words of Jesus both confuse and alarm. Isn't the Gospel all about bringing God's peace to the world? Doesn't Jesus tell us to love one another? Doesn't He call the peacemakers the "children of God?" [Mt 5:9]  And perhaps, most alarming, don't these words encourage Christians to reject peaceful solutions to the problems that divide us?

Such questions betray a lack of understanding not only of Jesus' teaching, but of human nature itself. Jesus simply gives His disciples, and us, a prophetic glance into the future, showing us how much of the world will respond to the Good News.

God doesn't will such divisions, but He warns us that we will encounter them. Indeed, it began when both Jew and Gentile, and that includes all of us, called for Jesus' crucifixion. And it's been going on ever since. 

Christianity and its teachings have not only been rejected by many, but also seen as the greatest threat to the plans and schemes of those seeking to gain or maintain power. It began with Scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Romans. And it continues today with Communists and Islamists, with atheists and secularists. 

Stalin once mockingly asked how many divisions the Pope had. And yet it was the faith of persecuted Polish Catholics that began the liberation of Eastern Europe from the Soviet yoke. Thanks to Stalin, Hitler, Mao, and too many others, there were more Christian martyrs in the 20th century than all previous centuries combined. Where there is persecution, there is tremendous faith.

Today, while Christianity in the modern west seems to be in decline, in Africa and in Asia its growth is dramatic, and this also includes remarkable growth in priestly and religious vocations.

The Church - and it is truly Catholic, a universal Church - because it defends the truth, demands justice, calls for respect of life and human dignity, and pleads for freedom, will always create division.

Yes, the peacemakers are blessed, but so too are those who suffer persecution for the sake of righteousness. Jesus doesn't separate the two, and neither can we.

God's peace...

Homily: Monday 15th Week in Ordinary Time

I have embedded a video of this homily below. The full text follows the video.

Readings: Ex 1:8-14, 22 • Psalm 124 • Mt 10:34-11-1
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The most obvious question about today's Gospel passage? Why does Jesus describe His mission and the coming of God's kingdom in terms of conflict and division? Why does He come not to bring peace, but a sword, a weapon of war? After all, didn't Jesus come in peace to reconcile a broken and sinful humanity with a merciful and loving God?

Well, Yes, He did, but He also came to wage war, to overthrow the powers and principalities arrayed against God and His kingdom. And the sword that Jesus brings is a therapeutic weapon. This sword is none other than God's terrible and fiery Word, Jesus Himself.

There's a wonderful passage in the Letter to the Hebrews that spells it out for us:

"Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart" [Heb 4:12]

We see this, too, in Revelation where John sees a vision of the Son of Man and writes: 

"A sharp two-edged sword came out of his mouth, and his face shone like the sun at its brightest" [Rev 1:16].

No, Jesus didn't come to bring ease and comfort. He came to bring life. And He does so through His Word, which causes a thorough and frightening interior transformation of everything it touches. It was for this redemptive, transforming act and nothing else that the eternal Word of the Father took on flesh and came into our midst as one of us.

And if you visit the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls in Rome, you'll encounter that huge statue of the Apostle, with a sword in his right hand Sacred Scripture in his left. Paul knew exactly what we face when we carry Jesus' Word into the world.

St. Paul Outside the Walls

Jesus comes to wage war: spiritual warfare. That's right -- Christ, the Prince of Peace, comes brandishing the sword of God's Word - a sword that slices through our delusions, cuts away our self-deception, and opens in us a wound - a window to God's truth, the truth that shatters the empty promises of this world. Christ brings peace from the Father, but it's not at all like the peace of this world. No, Christ's peace is often a companion with tribulation.

Scripture tells us there are only two kingdoms: God's kingdom of light and a kingdom of darkness, and they are engaged in a battle. In his first letter John contrasts these two kingdoms: 

"We know that we belong to God, and the whole world is under the power of the evil one" [1 Jn 5:19].

Wow! No neutral ground there. We're either for or against the kingdom of God; and our choices and actions reveal whose kingdom we choose to follow. That's why Jesus challenges us, for a true disciple loves God above all else and is willing to forsake all for Jesus Christ. 

Some years ago I was approached after Mass by 16-year-old twins, a boy and a girl, who wanted to become Catholics. Their parents were atheists and refused to let them join any Church. This was a hard and courageous thing these young people were doing - placing God's will over that of their parents.

Yes, indeed, family members can sometimes draw people away from God; just as excessive love for another can keep us from doing God's will in our lives. 

Now amidst all this talk of spiritual warfare, we must understand that Jesus never calls for "holy war." He preaches no Christian political ideology. He doesn't call for Christian nations to wage war against unbelievers. No, the sword of Jesus, His Word, pierces the heart and soul of each individual, in a sense causing an internal war.

Nor does Jesus say that we should not love father, mother, daughter, son - just the opposite. We're called to love them, even when they act as enemies of God. But we're not to love them more than we love God Himself.

Finally Jesus calls us to follow Him, for that's what a disciple does. But to follow Jesus isn't merely to imitate Him. Nor does it mean bringing Him into my life. No, to follow Jesus I must enter into His life, so I can be what He is. That is the Christian life. It's not I who make room for Jesus in what I do. It is Jesus inviting me to renounce all, so that I can enter into His humanity and His divinity, into His mission, into His life.

Jesus also tells us we don't follow Him empty-handed, for the Gospel calls us to embrace that which is a condition of discipleship: the Cross. Brothers and sisters, the way of the Christian is nothing less than the Way of the Cross. Like Simon of Cyrene we take up Jesus' Cross and follow Him, as if both His Cross and His road were our own.

This is what made St. Paul so joyful when he wrote:

"But may I never boast except in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world" [Gal 6:14].

Can we say the same?